


Your Biggest Fan

by BitterTongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: If the only way you could get a job in journalism was by stalking The Avengers you would do it, you just wish it wasn’t so hard to get your shot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Porting over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite

There were rumors he would be here. You had left the office two hours ago to follow up on this lead and for two hours you have sat on a hard plastic chair and drank cheaply made, overpriced coffee across from the building Thor had been seen entering all for a few photos. Had someone told you even a week ago that you would be so desperate to see one of The Avengers you would have laughed right in their face, but this was your job now, an unwilling stalker of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes all for a measly paycheck and a line on your resume.  
You ordered another coffee when the waitress came by, planning to expense your tab when you got back to the office. You checked your phone again with a sigh seeing no new messages telling you to give up and come back or that some other spotting had occurred that was more important. You unlocked your phone and refreshed the app that had been open since you sat down.  
The Thirst was the company you now worked for as of this week. It was a mid-range media news outlet set entirely in cyberspace through their app and website. They covered everything from food to fashion to current events and when you saw an opening on their website you applied with enthusiasm, pouring your best self into their test article and submitting a pretty solid portfolio if you could say so yourself. As a not so recent college graduate in the saturated field of journalism you had to take any opportunity that came your way to get published, and a full time position at The Thirst seemed too good to be true. And that’s because it is.  
You had been assigned to a small team of five whose sole purpose was to track The Avengers and report on everything they do. If they didnt do anything that day you were to delve into their past and make a 500 word mountain out of a throwaway fact molehill (Falcon doesn’t like flour tortillas! Here is a waste of writing telling you all we know.) There were also quizzes (Which Avenger would take you to prom based on your zodiac sign?) and polls (Which Avenger has the best taste in footwear?). It was all filler bullshit to attract more people to the site and thus to the more important and well written articles you weren’t allowed to write. It worked, you had to admit begrudgingly, the sight had only grown more popular with the opening of their New York office and the start of Avenger Watch, but that didn't mean you liked writing that nonsense. You had assigned yourself to paparazzi duty today, unable to participate in the article the rest of the team was no doubt working extensively on (Iron Man: Boxers or Briefs? What we know about Tony Stark’s Underwear Preferences.)  
You alternated between looking at the building containing your mission and your phone all while peppering in sips of coffee. It went on like this for another half hour before anything changed on the other side of the street.  
Besides the brief clumps of passerbys you had seen all day you had yet to witness anyone standing still on the opposite street, until now. Amongst the construction and plastered advertisements stood a man you had not seen before that moment. He stood to the left of the door you were watching, his eyes flicking to and fro as he took in his surroundings. You shook your head and flipped your phone over, taking his presence as a lesson that you were not as fluent in multitasking as you thought, and if you could miss this man walking up the street to where you eyes had been trained so intensely before then you need to refocus your efforts and probably lay off the coffee. It would have been worse, you thought, if he had exited the building without your knowing, for that meant you didn't take in your surroundings at all and potentially missed the whole reason you were here in the first place.  
You straightened your spine and pulled up your camera, using the viewfinder and lens to aid you as you got a better view of this loiterer. He was finely dressed in an all black suit, with hair just as dark slicked back away from his face but long enough to let soft curls rest upon his collar. He looked like he was waiting for something and you wondered what that something could be.  
Your query was answered moments later when the door next to him opened, you twisted your lens to zoom out and see…yes! It was Thor finally leaving the building. You waited with bated breath for the god to fully exit the doorway and step into the light, revealing everything to your camera to be documented and torn apart by your team.  
He made his debut and you pressed the camera’s capture button, hearing the shutter whirl as you snapped a photo. Another press as he turned his head to the right, another as he began to smile, then…nothing. You pushed down on the button again with no effect and pulled your eye off your target to stare down at the camera. It was off. You turned the switch off and on again. No, it was dead. You stared at the device in surprise. The camera had at least half battery when you turned it on just a minute ago. How could it be dead after only three pictures? You turned the camera this way and that, inspecting it’s tough black exterior for any damage or missing piece but it looked just the same as it had always looked.  
“Excuse me.” A deep voice pardoned, you looked up from your camera to see the man in black standing next to your table with a small smile on his lips, “I believe you might have dropped this my dear.”  
You looked down from his face to his opening hand. It was the camera battery sitting in his palm. Your gaped at it in disbelief. Your battery must have somehow fallen out. Returning your attention to your camera , you flipped it to see the door to the battery compartment was closed. How odd, you thought, it was closed tight and you didn't even hear the battery fall onto the concrete below. You looked then from your camera to where you last saw Thor only to find him gone. Turning your head and taking in as much as you could of the street on either side you concluded he was gone and with him your reason to be here. You turned back to the man still holding your battery out to you and smiled politely.  
“Thank you, I must have dropped it.”  
You picked it up from his palm, your fingers brushing against the rough, cold skin, making you shiver in the heat of the afternoon. You smiled again and offered another word of gratitude. One dark eyebrow raised and lowered minutely in response. His hand now empty he let it relax by his side and with a nod he departed down the street.  
You turned your attention back to your camera, shoving the battery in and watching the screen boot up the most recent picture, one of three you could hopefully salvage.  
“Damn.” You whispered to yourself. The photos weren’t great and you would probably get flack for it back at the office. You let your body collapse into the back of the chair in defeat and when the waitress approached your table again you asked for your check and began to pack up your things.  
Loki watched with a small, satisfied smile as you signed your bill and stood up, absently running your hand along your backside as it was relieved from the uncomfortable chair. He did not turn when his brother came to stand beside him, also taking in your retreating figure before it rounded the corner and disappeared.  
“Are you playing with the Midgardians again brother?” Thor asked with no malice.  
“Only one. She was watching you, taking photographs.” Loki explained airily as the car arrived to take the gods home.  
“Then let us hope your antics mean we never see her again.”  
Loki could not keep the smile growing on his face at bay as he thought back to your confused expression and the failed attempt to conceal your true feelings behind a polite smile and thank you. He found he would not mind so much if he saw you again, and told as much to his brother.  
Thor made a noise in his throat, indicating he was not interested in the current line of conversation and the pair continued their ride in comfortable silence.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a few more outings where you would attempt to capture images of the god of thunder before you realized the coincidences surrounding those photos were actually purposeful sabotage. For the past month they followed the same formula: you would be sent out with the camera to a Thor sighting and while waiting for your shot you would inevitably spot the mysterious man in his black tailored suit then Thor would appear shortly after and therein lie the sabotage.  
First it was your camera’s battery, and while it was strange you had convinced yourself it was ultimately innocuous. You arrived back at the office and admitted your mistake, thinking you had earned the disapproval of your team rightfully. They bounced back though with five articles and two polls based on your poorly framed, slightly out of focus photographs. You were relieved despite the nagging thought in your head of how odd the whole thing was.  
Then, the next time your camera went missing, it had somehow completely disappeared from the strap around your neck. When you went to lift the familiar weight of the device and grasped nothing but air the surge of panic you felt bypassed any desire to document Thor enjoying seven entire pizzas in the small corner pizza joint you had been tipped off on. The meal took the god all of three minutes to scarf down. Finding your camera took about half an hour. You didn't notice him in the moment, the same man from last time standing just inside the restaurant, half hidden in the shadow of the awning hung to shield the sun from their customer’s eyes. It was on top of that very awning you spotted your camera and you recruited one of the restaurant workers to help you bring it down. You should have realized as you approached the office empty handed that something was up, but it took a few more times you shamefully admit.  
Your boss was getting tired of your excuses and your team did not believe your claims that the stranger was somehow connected to your misfortune. How could your expect them to believe you though? You had no evidence of him at all. There had been no photographs, no name to research, and your description of him only received blank stares or raised eyebrows. Ultimately it was decided that you should take a break from fieldwork and stay in the office where the work you were being paid to do actually produced results.  
You were just finishing your rough draft of Chick Flicks Black Widow Would Probably Watch and Why when the fight began. One moment you were mentally pulling your hair out at the stupidity of the article and the next you were cowering under your desk as a deep tremor shook the building from the foundation to the highest floor. When the quake ceased and you left your makeshift shelter you discovered the source of the upheaval. Right outside your building was some sort of vessel and shooting from its underbelly was what looked like a cartoonish red laser. The beam of energy, as silly as it looked, was causing real damage to the street below. Almost as if the entire staff reached the same realization at the same time, the thirty or so employees of The Thirst New York Division rushed in a panic to the elevator looking to escape to safety.  
You however, could only see dollar signs as Iron Man into view from the top of your floors large windows, his sleek red and gold suit reflecting in the sun and almost blinding you with each movement of his arms and legs. This was your chance to get out of your crappy job and into something better, all you needed was pictures.  
When the first attack on New York happened most everyone’s sole motivation was survival. Droves of people fled the streets being terrorized by the threat for locations untouched, some even fleeing the city entirely. One college student, equipped with only his outdated DSLR endured the line of fire to capture the fight. His name became legendary in journalism, his prints ended up in museums and text books, and he was set for life with royalties and job offers. This could be your moment. This could be the fight that gets your name in the mouth of every major news outlet and your photos in magazines and your articles online. This time tomorrow you could be free of this bullshit job with its nonsense reporting and actually do something worth a damn. Where others saw danger you only saw opportunity.  
The camera used for all reporting by your team, the same camera that had been disabled in multiple ways by your mischievous nuisance, was sitting atop Katy’s desk where she had left it yesterday. Without any moral objection you snatched it up and tore down the stairs, surpassing a handful of coworkers still waiting for the elevator.  
The eight flights from your office to the ground floor were traversed in such a rush you lost your footing about halfway down, causing your momentum to send you crashing into the wall of the stairwell. You barely felt the impact through the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You checked the camera for damage and set off once you determined there was none, not faulting your speed for any prospect of sure footing. You halted only when you had thrown open the door to the lobby and came upon the destruction.  
An entire stretch of outer wall was gone, the walls adjacent were mostly rubble and only the far wall remained undamaged and continued to support the building as it had when you arrived to work that morning. The usual elderly, friendly building manager was missing from her desk that stood in the center of the lobby, though in her defence the desk was no longer in its place and, in fact, pieces of wood scattered about the tile floor were all that remained. Like a heavy boulder in the middle of a stream you stayed planted through the river of scared workers flooding out from the elevator and stairs. They continued to flow out and away from the battle, pushing and shoving and taking along with them anything that cut through their path.  
You couldn't move with them, not now that you were down here, seeing and hearing and practically tasting destruction. Truly for the first time you were feeling terror. The next time you saw a spider you would not be able to say you were afraid of them, for the fear you felt right now surpassed any minor fright the eight legged creatures gave you. Haunted houses could never been described as horrifying, for you had now seen real blood splattered on the walls and pavement, not knowing how it got there or who it belonged to, or even if they were still alive.  
The red and gold glimmer of the Iron Man suit brought you back to you senses, forcing your previously unseeing eyes to refocus on what drove you down here in the first place. You rushed forward toward the open air, stumbling up and over rubble and debris to make it beyond the building, one hand cradling the camera to your chest protectively. When your feet hit a patch of intact pavement you brought the viewfinder to your eye and began snapping.  
The pictures would not be perfect but they would be plentiful. Iron Man and War Machine were high in the sky and moving faster than your camera could handle, but you captured their attempts to break through the flying vessel’s tough exterior with whatever was equipped in the suits. Panning down to the ground, standing maybe half a mile from you just outside the energy beam pointed steadfast into the ground with the help of Hulk was Captain America and Black Widow. You zoomed in and out feverishly getting shots of all three of the heroes as well as individual close ups. You felt a surge of pride as your shutter closed midway through Captain America throwing his shield; in the viewfinder you had timed it right when he had the shield furthest back, allowing you to see the gleaming white center star and the length of his muscular arm.  
In your fervor you did not detect the roll of thunder and flash of lightning until one struck so close you almost dropped the camera. You stumbled blindly backwards on instinct and scrambled up the rubble pile until you were under the cover of your building.  
“He’s here.” You said to yourself with a smile, searching what you could see of the sky from under the crumbling roof.  
It’s not that Thor was your favorite avenger, far from it considering the strife you had endured trying to get his picture, but you had always been a fan, he was a god after all. You could see the lightning travel closer and closer, striking down from a centralized ball. You raised your camera excitedly. It was hard to capture lightning on film, but this time you would get the shots that evaded you before.  
You pressed down frantically on your capture button, so much so that your pointer finger was sore, but you had finally gotten a solid photo of the god of thunder…and…was that?  
It was him, the dark haired man you who had handed you your camera battery, who you had seen smirking at you through your viewfinder just before the lens attachments fell off while attempting to document Thor jogging in the park. Despite the change from a well fitted, all-black suit to leathers of green and black paired with a flowing cape and golden horned helmet, you knew it was him. His long black curls and playful expression made it all very clear.  
You felt fear, true and pure, for the second time that day when your mind made the connection between the man in the suit and the man, no, god joining the fight alongside The Avengers. You had been spotting Loki, the god of mischief, brother of Thor, and overall threat to humanity, for the last month and had been suspecting him to be the source your camera issues. Though it didn’t make sense how he had done it before it certainly did now. You knew Loki was a sorcerer; a trickster. You also knew he had attempted to take over the world only a few years ago and had caused the death of thousands of people with no remorse. You swallowed past the constriction of your throat. He had been playing with you, teasing you for his own pleasure and amusement. What would happen when he got bored of pulling your pigtails and calling you names? Would he leave you alone? Would he kill you? You could feel your fear edge into a full on panic attack. You dropped the camera onto the debris next to you with shaking hands.  
The creaking and cracking was quiet at first but the volume increased rapidly, too rapid for you to react. The fact that you were about to be crushed had barely entered your thoughts before the building collapsed, no longer able to rely on the one supporting wall. The toppling building provided just enough damage to the enemy to send it to the ground, sputtering out its last bits of life. The Avengers stood around it, taking in its damage and the wreckage of the surrounding areas, all except one unofficial member who currently cradled you in his arms only a few feet away from the falling glass and concrete.  
You thought you were going to die but somehow you hadn’t. You opened your eyes, they had been clenched so tightly shut that you saw spots for a moment and had to blink them away, but when you vision cleared you finally understood why you weren’t dead. Loki’s face was etched with concern, a genuine expression that jolted you out of your dazed state and back into an adrenaline induced panic. You clutched desperately to his leather clad arms and shoulders despite the relative security.  
“Oh…oh m-my god.” You began, stuttering on your words as you choked back sobs. You should hear Loki shushing you softly and felt his icy thumb graze across your cheek to collect your tears. You pulled away reflexively and he let you break out of his arms. You wrapped your own arms around yourself immediately missing the feeling of comfort.  
“You’re safe now. Though only a fool of a midgardian would be so close to the action and almost get herself killed.” His voice was deep, just like it had been upon your first meeting. The timbre felt like a warm blanket for your ears, but the condescending tone and words did not wrap you in warmth, but ignite a heat in your belly even the ice of fear couldn't quell fast enough.  
“I am not a fool.” you huffed, finding strength in your voice again.  
“Then, pray tell, what were you thinking?” His pitch raised slightly in his bewilderment.  
Your eyes finally looked beyond him to where you once sat, suddenly realizing your camera was not at your side. It had been crushed along with any hope you had of moving on from The Thirst. You let out a self deprecating snort and shook your head. There was no way The Thirst would even continue to employ you when they found out about the camera, if they were even keeping the New York division at all after losing everything. You brought your attention back to Loki, eyes now hollow.  
“My camera has been crushed and my office leveled. How will you continue to play with me now? Or will you just kill me?”  
All concern and confusion fell from the god’s face and was replaced by a hard, cold glare. Barely suppressed anger held his lips tight in a sneer. Without looking he reached down by his side, fingers trailing along one golden horn of his helmet before gripping it surely and thrusting it into the air. It turned over twice before it landed deftly back into his awaiting hand. All the while his eyes did not leave yours and you found yourself unable to do anything but take him in. He placed the helmet on his head and took a step back, and another, and with each step the hard line of his lips loosened into a roguish leer.  
“I’m not done playing yet darling.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Thirst New York division was on a temporary hiatus as corporate looked for a new location to house the team. You were not surprised to get the email informing you of your temporary suspension but that did not keep the disappointment from coating your lungs making it hard to breathe as you lounged on your couch. The only positive note to the electronic letter came at the end, a footnote added, hastily, judging by the shift in grammar and formality, stating income could still be earned. The more you read about the method of keeping your income the more your heart sank. While the west coast branch would take over all articles, quizzes, and polls, photographs would still be needed of The Avengers. The Thirst was resorting to glorified paparazzi shots in lieu of retaining employment. You did not look to optimistically at your future with the news site. As you sat on your couch, your laptop resting in your blanketed lap, you resigned to your fate of being out of a job.  
The thing about New York is there was always a job to be done and someone to pay you for it. From your experience those jobs very rarely weaved into your background in journalism. As Monday morning rolled around and you found yourself awake before the sun, you felt even more defeated.  
The temp agency you had worked with in college had accepted you back with open arms, mostly because they accepted anyone in need of temporary work. You pulled out and dusted off an old blazer and modest skirt from your closet, prepared to head off to the small, dated temp agency office and call first dibs on whatever law office needed a secretary to cover their flakey usual. It didn't feel right moving backwards in your career, but you felt helpless as circumstances pushed you further away from your goal.  
The walk to the agency spanned a subway ride seven blocks, much longer than the two block trek it had been whilst you were attending school. The morning wasn’t quiet nor peaceful as fellow New Yorkers busily rushed past you on their phones, caring only for themselves and barely sparing each other a second glance. You yourself had shoved your earbuds in the second you stepped outside, eyes downcast and hands shoved in your blazer pockets, fingering a hole on the right side exposing how worn the piece of clothing was.  
“You prove to be quite hard to find when you’re not stalking me.” A deep voice whispered in your ear just as you resurfaced from your subway stop, the deep tone cutting through the 80s power ballad playing through your headphones. The voice was as smooth and clear as if it was coming from someone striding alongside you, but when you looked up from your view of the few sidewalk in front of your feet you were walking alone, the people milling past at different paces paying you no mind.  
Then you saw him, a figure amongst the shuffle, turning away from you and heading in the opposite direction. You paused before continuing forward at a fast pace, putting as much distance between you and him in the shortest amount of time. You turned a corner and slowed down with a grateful sigh. You began to out your earbuds back in feeling safe to let your guard down.  
“Where have you been hiding darling?” The voice came again right before your ear was sealed by the small bud. You gasped involuntarily and turned on your heel, eyes frantically searching for the tall god with his dark hair and mischievous smirk. Again your vision came up short, every time you thought you saw him out of the corner of your eye he was unseen when you pulled your gaze in that direction. You were practically spinning in circles as you walked.  
Halfway down the street you turned into a small coffee shop hoping to find sanity and solitude within the four walls. You searched the streets thoroughly before relaxing and letting your breath return to normal. This had to be all in your head right? You shook your skull back and forth as if to rid your mind of the visions and voices before joining the small line.  
You arrived at the front of the line in only a few minutes but to you time felt as if it was crawling. You stood impatiently, hopping from foot to foot, checking your phone, and glancing wearily around as if you knew you weren’t safe here forever, but arriving at the front of the line you let your awareness sink to only yourself and the barista at the pretense of ordering your latte.  
“It's on me.” Came a familiar voice from behind you, so close to your ear your body shivered in reflex to the soft tufts of breath moving your hair gently enough to tickle your cheek. The woman at the register nodded looking bored and handed you your drink. A soft but firm hand guided you away from the counter and to a nearby table without actually paying for you coffee, though the employee did not seem to notice as she called for the next person in line.  
“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper as you were shoved gently into the wooden chair. Loki moved his chair closer to your side of the round table before sitting himself upon it. And looking at you, a thoughtful expression on his smooth face.  
“On nothing,” he said with a sigh as he glanced around the populated shop, “too many witnesses I’m afraid.” He ended with a smirk.  
If it weren’t for the coffee cup in your hands Loki would have noticed that they were shaking. You felt scared and on edge, like a rabbit looking into the jaws of a wolf, you knew what was coming and could only watch helplessly as you were consumed.  
“I simply wanted to talk, love.” Loki said with an exasperated roll of his eyes.  
“Talk?” You repeated, a doubting disbelief in your tone. What kind of person puts you through the morning you’ve had and only wants to talk?  
“Yes, I asked you before: where have you been? It is so hard to play with you when you’re not around.”  
The way he said play eased a bit of your fearful energy and made way for anger. You were not some toy to be played with when he pleases. You had a life and a job, hobbies and interests and a family, you were a person not a plaything. You stood suddenly, your chair skidding back against the tiled floor with the force. Loki raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity and watched you walk away from him and out of the shop leaving your untouched coffee behind.  
You seethed quietly for another block, walking quickly as the anger and panic moved like fire through your veins. You looked behind you once or twice just to make sure the god had not followed you and though your eyes did not fall upon him you did not relax. You were somewhat prepared next time he made himself known to you.  
“You know it's rude to leave in the middle of a conversation.” Loki’s voice came from your side and you actually let out an unbidden squeak of surprise. You had been so watchful for him, yet somehow missed him falling into step beside you.  
“I didn't like the conversation,” you bit back, “or the company.”  
“I’ll have you know I am a prince on Asgard-”  
“Well you’re a monster on earth.” You interrupted, seething at the pompous and selfish attitude and forgetting that behind such a demeanor was a cold blooded killer. You paused your step as realization hit you and the weight of your words fell heavily onto your chest, you peaked up into the face of the god you had just called a monster to find it hard and tense, lips pursed and eyes shining briefly with hurt before closing off so that when his gaze met yours it was blank and uncaring. Despite the truth in your words you felt guilty for saying them, if only after glimpsing the effect they had on Loki.  
It felt wrong to say sorry, too forced and fake but an apology needed to be made in some fashion. You cleared your throat as if the vibrations would shatter the apology before it could exit your mouth. You let out a dramatic sigh and put on an air of irritated surrender hoping he would not expose your attempt to gain his favor once more.  
“If you must know,” you drawled. The spark returned to Loki’s eyes and you took the twinkle of amusement as a good sign, continuing to walk down the street with him at your side, “my office was kind of in the building that almost collapsed on top of me. Without the office there is no job that involves stalking The Avengers and putting me in your line of fire.”  
“Well I don’t like that at all.” He grumbled. With arms crossed across his chest and the slight pout of his lower lip he looked akin to a spoiled child who did not get what he wanted. You smiled at his expense but the god didn’t seem to notice through his own disappointment.  
“Will you find a new job? Like your old one?” He asked suddenly, his need for an answer only thinly veiled behind what was a half hearted attempt at indifference. You maneuvered your way through the stream of commuters to the front door of the temp agency, Loki following so close behind you could feel the tips of his shoes glancing your heels with every step.  
“Not without a nice, expensive camera. Until then I’ll be picking up odd jobs that do not involve you at all.” you said, half joking.  
Turning to face Loki as you prepared to depart into the building you felt suddenly shy and coy. You had never interacted this way before. Aside from scolding you like a child at your last meeting Loki had barely spoken to you, let alone had a casual conversation that even included what some would consider light flirting. You didn’t quite know how to say goodbye to someone you couldn’t fit into the category of friend or polite acquaintance. You shifted from one foot to the other, biting you lip as you planned your escape. Your hand slipped behind you to grasp the door handle, ready muscles tense and ready to spring you away from the enticing danger.  
“Well, goodbye.” You said in a rush of breath and a frantic pull of what you now remembered was a push only door. Heat blushed from your chest and crawled up your neck as you turned to push your weight into the door and enter the building correctly. Before you could lean your body forward a large hand came to rest at the side of your head against the glass door. Pressing his body into the back of yours Loki slowly pushed the door open for you, leaning in just close enough to whisper his goodbye.  
“See you soon darling.”  
You practically fell into the lobby in your attempt to put distance between yourself and Loki, causing the bored receptionist to glance up from her phone with lazy curiosity. Ignoring her you turned toward the waiting room chairs and moved to sit down willing you nerves to settle.  
See you soon he had said. You didn’t know if you should like the implication of his words, but the butterflies wriggling in your empty stomach told you you didn't have a choice in the matter.


End file.
